What If I Can't?
by rickydickdamndiculous
Summary: There were many things, beautiful things, Kyle had seen in this world that were new to him. That smile, above all, was his most favorite. - Another Genisys one-shot.


"C'mon, Reese!"

Cyberdyne was about to blow, and Kyle could not tell what shook the bones in his limbs; if the facility had blown already, or his own heavy sprinting. Regardless, every foot along the corridor strained his aching limbs. Sarah grabbed his wrist, pulling him forward to match her speed. The wound in her right collarbone hardly seemed to phase her, she could probably drag Kyle off his feet if he hadn't been heavier.

They stopped at a large, one-foot thick vault door, guarding the safe room that Pops mentioned earlier. Sarah quickly applied her hand print and voice to the security interface, and as the software processed her identification, they heard a deafening, thunderous noise of an explosion above them. Now, the ground definitely shook, throwing the two humans off-balance. The door finally lifted its locks with a metallic _shunk_ , and Kyle helped Sarah pry it open, entering as soon as there was barely a wide enough gap to fit through.

As they turned to close it, Kyle saw a wave of fire burst through the elevator door from which they came, surging towards them. They were staring death in the face, frantically pulling the heavy door shut, but it moved slow. _Too_ slow. Kyle let out a loud cry, both of pain and frustration as he threw in every last bit of strength he had left, and _pulled_. The exclamation was inaudible beneath the monstrous noise as it met them.

The blast of fire collided into the vault door, slamming it shut. The door let out a high-pitched screech, straining against the force of the impact and extruding large dents along the steel. Kyle and Sarah staggered back, shielding their heads. The whole room shook, dust and bits of concrete fell from the ceiling. They stood there for a moment, the ground vibrating beneath their feet, listening to the ambient sounds of crumbling destruction on the levels above them.

Then it went quiet.

They made it. Barely.

Hastily, Sarah moved to a locking mechanism perched on the left wall next to the door, fumbling with the screws and wiring that kept it in place. She had no desire to sit around and catch her breath. Kyle offered some assistance and put his palms on the door, feeling the large dents that interrupted the cold, solid steel, and leaned his weight into it. He thought it could probably be opened by force if it was weak enough, but it did not budge. Impressive. Kyle wondered if it could withstand a Terminator's strength.

"We have to get out of here," Sarah said impatiently. "We have to find him."

Kyle closed his eyes. Sarah's concern for the machine – for _Pops –_ did not frustrate him, it only reminded him of similar times when he tried to go back for fallen comrades. He hated leaving fellow men behind, despite their low odds of survival. Still, even if Pops _did_ survive the wrath of the incomplete time displacement device, that explosive chain reaction spelled little hope.

Kyle relaxed his shoulders and exhaled. "Sarah, he's gone," he said softly.

She didn't answer. Kyle bit his lip, maybe he said it too harshly, despite trying to be as gentle as possible. He repeated, "He's –"

"Dead?" Sarah responded at last, her voice shaken but no less determined. "I know that. I mean we leave no part of him behind. It's too dangerous." She plucked the locking mechanism from the wall and sat down on a nearby chair, picking at the device with a screwdriver.

The word danger stood out in his senses, and Kyle subconsciously tensed. He felt every muscle and tendon in his body ache with exhaustion. They had spent the last two days running and fighting, crashing and falling. It felt like his body was finally catching up to him. He could not remember the last time he got any sleep, it felt like a completely different lifetime.

Kyle banished the discomfort from his awareness. He was more worried about Sarah, who tightly pressed her lips together and fumbled with her hands. She was trying to stay collected, distracting herself.

Kyle thought about Pops. All his life, Kyle fought and evaded numerous machines that wore a human face, the same machines that brought humanity to the brink of extinction. They were killers with no emotion, and no alternate programming other than to annihilate every last human with a heart beat. Next thing he knew, Kyle was fighting alongside one, with the very same face of those that tried to kill him. A face with those lifeless eyes and cold stares.

He didn't trust it, especially not after it knocked him unconscious and left him with a headache _still_ pulsing in his skull. Years of training and survival instinct constantly screamed at Kyle to shut Pops down, to find that chip and grind it into dust. Slowly, though, he noticed something different in Pops that made him stand out from all the others, something that even Sarah might not have seen yet.

Pops' last words repeated in his head, and it resonated with the last words that John – the _real_ John – once said to Kyle.

"He loved you." Kyle consoled, with no hint of mockery or contempt in his voice. He meant it.

Sarah paused, staring at the floor. "Anyone who loves me," she muttered sadly, " _all_ of them, they die."

Her words hit home. To be told of his fate had definitely shocked Kyle – not to mention the part where he was John's _father,_ a fact that he was still struggling to process. It stuck in his memory at every moment their lives encountered danger. It had scared him. But Kyle had volunteered for this mission to protect Sarah Connor, accepting the risks and the possibility that he may die trying. That was his promise to her, and his promise to John. Fate was against him in 1984, but things had changed; they were not in 1984 anymore.

"Not everyone," Kyle replied, resolute. "Not this time."

He walked over to Sarah and pulled up an overturned chair, sitting in front of her. She stayed silent, her eyes not meeting his. She had lost a father twice now, and no matter how hard she tried to hide it and be strong, the pain showed.

She did not need to hide her pain in order to prove her strength, not to Kyle.

"Hey," Kyle whispered, finally getting Sarah to look up. He held her gaze, her green eyes swelling with tears. "You need to understand that Skynet is gone." He gave her a gentle smile. "You're _free._ "

Sarah blinked, and the tears fell from her face, as if Kyle's words had liberated her from the emotional prison that chained her.

Kyle continued, "For the first time, you can choose the life you want. _Any_ life you want."

He suddenly felt a pang of sadness, but quickly squelched it. Yes, she could choose to _love_ someone else, too; Kyle wanted that for her. She was no longer bound to the destiny that she spent her entire life preparing for, kicking and screaming.

Sarah pursed her lips and shook her head, breathing out in a quiet, stifled sob, "But what if I don't know how?"

For answer to that, Kyle was stuck. He found himself lost on that road just the same. He was so focused on protecting Sarah, he never considered what to do if he actually _did_ survive. Hell, Kyle never even expected to make it this far. Whatever he could do, he had no idea. He had known nothing but war his entire life, and coming out of a lifestyle like that would be difficult to get used to. That was assuming they could get out of this room before they suffocated.

Sarah still had her eyes on his. He tried to find an answer that would help her, some kind of advice, but nothing came to his mind. He felt useless to her now. But he had to say _something._

Kyle sighed, reassuring her, "Well, since we're about to run out of air, I'd say you don't need to worry about it."

Sarah let out a small smile, that was something Kyle had not seen before. There were many things, beautiful things, Kyle had seen in this world that were new to him. That smile, above all, was his most favorite. He returned it.

Before Kyle could speak another word, their moment was interrupted when a loud bang erupted from the door. Kyle and Sarah shot up from their chairs in alert. A long, silver sword pierced through it, and yanked it off the hinges. Kyle's previous question had now been answered. The T-1000 got through the door like it was paper, like it was nothing at all. A silhouette stood at the threshold where the door had once been. Was it John? Had _that_ John survived?

They had no weapons, and the only escape was right where the machine was standing. Kyle immediately stepped in front of Sarah, albeit there was little he could do to help her now. Maybe, hopefully, he could distract the machine long enough for Sarah to escape. If Kyle's death bought Sarah a chance for survival, he would be okay with that.


End file.
